Victoria here. Okay, darlings, we know some of you are skeptics, but the authority on all truth has spoken!! Wiki! Go here and read all about the WNBR 2010 ND 2011, which to you who still don’t believe, is the World Naked Bike Ride. Book your tickets for next year’s world-shattering event soon, only 300+ days to go.
But speaking of world-shattering events, we can’t believe the passion with which London is reacting to the World Cup — football, a.k.a. soccer for us non-believers. It is amazing here. Last Sunday night, June 13 (or so my adled brain configures), we went to church. (And it didn’t even collapse.) We attended a concert while England and the USA faced off in South Africa. We were prepared to claim we were Canadians if the USA beat England, but since it was a draw (1-1), we could be truthful. However, it is amazing to see all the England flags (cross of St. George, a red cross on white field) on taxis and cares, painted on faces, arranged in clothing, even painted on houses. Here is a tepid example, no way close to the wild ideas portrayed but not reproduced on line.
England never fails to enchant me. While I am in raptures over an antique print of the 1st Duke of Wellington, or a view of Her Majesty, or an old book found in a dusty bin in Charing Cross Road, the English are taking off their clothes to ride bikes, sloshing a pint while watching Brazil defeat North Korea, or trying to keep sane while shepherding a gaggle of children past the nudes to see more Old Masters in the Wallace Collection. I actually told a teacher how adorable her charges were earlier this afternoon, and she glared at me as if I had three heads. “Everyday? All week?” she sputtered.
Well, no, I must admit. But since they are English, to me they had a special charm.
I am fading. I can’t wait to share some of my pictures (sadly none of the WNBR) but I have lots of gardens I am sure you will like much better than the flabby buns of those bike riders.
One more whole day in London. How lucky can a girl get?
Thanks for letting me enjoy London vicarously.
Aw, come on, Vicky. The buns couldn't have been ALL bad. Really? Shucks. đ